Klavier
by sa-shii-mi
Summary: The music room was our special place. I knew I couldn't have my beloved Ichigo but as long as he kept the unspoken promise of never allowing anyone else in here, I would stay loyal. Because I knew that King would never betray me. ANGST, OOC, AU, T for violence. Inspired by Rammstein's "Klavier" (something strange happened with FF, had to re-upload :( )


**A/N : Hey guys, long time no see ! I know I have other fics and requests to complete but life has been quite busy during the past three months and now university (and Candy Crush, I confess erm) is eating up my whole time!**

**This is a ShiroIchi One-shot, with no sexual content, sorry. **

**I WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND THE SONG 'KLAVIER' BY RAMMSTEIN AS IT INSPIRED THIS SONG!**

**If you're not familiar with German, just look up the translation on the web. :) **

**I hope you'll like this even if it's kinda strange and irregular… like Shiro since this is his POV. **

**Review if you want to, it'd make me super happy!**

**Enjoy!**

**Klavier**

The music room is our special place. It has always been. Ever since we were kids and our respective families gathered in the mansion for big occasions like Christmas, New Year's or some of the older folks billionth birthdays. Whenever we'd get bored – which was always right after the dinner – we'd slip out of the sparkling and beautiful main room to go there.

Ichi and I first found it by chance while we were playing hide and seek. We knew we weren't allowed to play in that part of the mansion as it was abandoned and never had been renovated like the other parts of the property. We did it nonetheless. Of course. We were fearless and brave seven-year-olds after all.

I had been counting, plastering my face against a wall so that I couldn't see Ichi's hiding spot. I heard the sound of his feet running across the marble floor, opening doors quickly and closing them just as swiftly. Then, suddenly, a rattling noise filled the air. Yet, even if the curiosity was almost irresistible I kept my eyes focused on the pale rose motives of the wall. The sound quietened for a few seconds.

Then, once more. And Ichigo's clear voice resounded:

"Hey, Shiro, let's play something else."

I turned around, not able to hold back my curiosity anymore. In the opposite direction of the long hall, where the light barely reached, stood my cousin. He stared at a door – probably the one he couldn't open – before turning to me and frowning slightly.

"Are you coming or what, Shi?"

I nodded and jogged towards him, reaching him after a few moments, an eager grin stretched across my face.

"What's wrong, King?"

His small impatient frown from earlier on dissolved as his bright hazelnut eyes started sparkling. He patted my cheek – in the same fashion as his mom did sometimes – and laughed:

"You silly idiot, why do you keep calling me 'King'? It's so strange!"

I shrugged, a bit embarrassed by his comment. Yes, I called him 'King', so what. That's what he was for me, after all. A king, with a dazzling orange-tinted crown on his head. The only person who would not judge me for my weird antics.

"Anyways, what did ya want to play?" I asked as I considered the door in front of us. It was huge, especially for kids like us, and the handle seemed kind of rusty, unused.

My cousin explained simply:

"I wonder what's in that room. I can't open the door but I figured that since you're stronger than me you can give it a try."

One of my eyebrows quirked as I silently snickered. So I had been right when I said I was stronger even if I had lost a match of two against him in karate! I didn't say anything though, not wanting to annoy my sweet and favourite redhead, and grabbed the unpolished knob of the door instead. After shaking and turning it a few times, the lock gave in, and I gave the door a small push with my shoulder. The door opened with a long, suffering creaking sound, revealing a wide room – just like all the others. Well not really. In this one, and only this one, stood a huge black piano.

We entered the room cautiously, shifting one foot after the other and making the dust on the ground swirl around. Ichigo grabbed the hem of my shirt, making me grin to myself. He had always been such a coward but just wouldn't admit it, even under torture.

My golden eyes looked around the room, taking in the high, decorated ceiling, the beautiful and faded paintings on the walls and the wide windows through which soft light shined, bathing the place in a soft glow. I could see the dust particles in the air, dancing around us like golden powder. Turning around, I observed wide brown eyes which were fixed on the black instrument in the middle of the room.

My hand, so white against Ichigo's tan skin, led him to the piano as I told him to sit down. He executed my orders silently, still in another world. I went back to close the door before grabbing a stool from the corner of the room and then sat back next to him.

"Play somethin', Ichi," I suggested.

As if my voice had popped his bubble, he turned around to look at me. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes full of fright. His lips parted only to close again. A chuckle escaped my lips as I patted his orange locks and said:

"It's alright, it's just me here."

Indeed Ichigo was an incredible pianist, even at the young age of seven, but his biggest problem was his massive stage fright. I was aware of his talent because I had hidden myself behind a sofa in his living room while he was practicing his lessons. And geez, he'd been so mad when he had found my cramped form behind the piece of furniture.

But after a while he stopped being embarrassed in front of me. I was his cousin after all. Just his freaky albino cousin with black sclera.

Soft notes pulled me out of my reveries. I saw tanned fingers touch dusty keys of black and white, the pace and pianist growing bolder as they rode off to a world I could never be part of. I watched the expression on my younger cousin's face change constantly – from shy to energetic, from happy to sad. To say that I was absolutely enchanted would be an understatement.

We'd stayed there for hours, him playing on the piano (which was slightly out-of-tune) and me watching him as the light on his face and fingers turned from a soft yellow glow to a darker orange and finally darkening as the sun sank and the moon made its appearance.

oOoOoOo

Ever since that day, we would go there during the big family gatherings. The other family members knew where we were – in the room right over the dining room – so they let us be.

However, while the room never changed and the dust always covered the piano keys when we came back, everything else changed. The world changed. The music changed. We changed.

Ichigo had lost his mother when we were nine, turning him into a closed person. He wouldn't up to anyone. Anyone but me, the person who'd become weirder and weirder. The person who hung out with the wrong crowd. The person no parent wanted to be proud of.

Ever since nine years ago, a scowl has been plastered on his face. It's such a waste, really, because Ichi has become very handsome. In my eyes, at least. His once round face became more angular, his nose is straight but the slightly upturned tip makes me want to kiss it. His lips aren't as plump as a girl's but just as kissable. And his eyes…Oh, his eyes. Sharp pools of molten lava and chocolate with a tinge of honey. They are so expressive. They capture me whenever they are directed at me. I don't feel worthy of their attention, with my ugly deformed black sclera. Yet they still communicate with mine at ease. And, even if it sounds mushy as fuck, I could lose myself in them forever.

Yes, I know, I shouldn't have such feelings for my King. Being into guys is already hard enough but my cousin? That's just messed-up, isn't it? Especially since we look like fucking twins.

Not that I care, seriously. Ichigo doesn't know about my feelings, and I'm hell bent on keeping it that way. It gets difficult though. I can't help but wanting to be the one he thinks of when he plays soft, loving tunes on the piano. I sometimes wish I was one of the ivory keys, so that his long fingers could caress me softly. It's silly but you can't hold it against me. I will take all I can get. There's not too much there for me after all.

Of course, I'm often on the receiving end of his smirks and full-blown smiles and laughs, but never, _never_, will those beautiful honey brown gems look at me with an innocent shyness. His tanned skin will never redden when he looks at me. His voice will never shake insecurely when he talks to me.

It's unfair.

But so is life, isn't it?

Last year, during Christmas Eve, I made the huge mistake of asking him whom he was thinking about while playing a particularly beautiful song. The composition had sounded so pure and sad, making my bittersweet feelings slowly seep through my already broken heart.

What a stupid idea. So, so, so dumb. I think I'm some kind of masochist. I have to be one to fall in love with King and then ask him who's on his mind.

I should've just kept my tongue. I wish I had. There were signs, for Christ's sake! The slight pink covering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, the dreamy gaze, the slight smile. Those clues were brighter than his hair, and that's saying a lot. But I still asked.

And I regretted it immediately.

After a few moments of denial, Ichigo started talking about this guy in his grade. A certain Grimmjow. _Grimmjow_. I knew I would never forget that name.

Anger and jealousy immediately started boiling in my chest. The quivering in his tone and the red ear tips. Oh god, I wanted to puke. I bet that if he hadn't been too preoccupied with drawing random pattern in the dust and fixing them in embarrassment, he would have seen how my pale complexion was green.

I didn't let anything transpire though. I thought that maybe that Grimmjow person would just disappear at one point, leaving a broken-hearted Ichigo behind for me to comfort.

But, no. That – blue-haired, as Ichigo told me – fucker stayed. He stole everything from me: Ichigo's first date. His first kiss. His first time. My king. The honey brown sparkling gems. The orange-tinted crown. Everything.

I could completely push Ichigo out of my life. I should. I really should. Yet it doesn't work. Even though I'm getting bitterer inside my heart every time I see him, I stand by his side when he plays the piano. I'm always sitting on the small stoll and not next to him on the large one, because I want to respect his world while he plays. I'm staying loyal, scraping for all the affection and attention I can get.

Pathetic. That's what I am. I don't care though because I know that at least the music room is _our _world. It's only for the two of us. When we are there, I feel like a very small part of him belongs to me.

So, Grimmjow and unrequired love be damned. As long as nobody else enters that room, I don't care. That room is special. We have this silent pact which confirms that we're the only ones allowed to enter. I know Ichigo would never break that unspoken promise.

My king would never betray me.

Never.

oOoOoOo

Suffocating.

I'm suffocating.

I can barely breathe as a huge storm builds up in my chest and mind.

I can't believe what I see. This… this is not possible! Why would he do that?! Why would Ichigo do that to me?!

I arrived a bit later at this year's Christmas party, even if I had really been looking forward to it. I hadn't seen my redheaded cousin in three months, so it was understandable. Not bothering to greet the whole assembly I ran up the stairs, three steps at a time, when my eyes didn't caught sight of a familiar orange mop of hair in the crowd. I sprinted down the hall, hearing a soft tune getting louder and louder and my smile getting broader and broader. Then I gripped the door knob, like all those years before and slammed the door open.

"King-!" I screamed in my usual annoying voice but it stilled afterwards when I saw what was in the room. Or more like, _who_ is in sharing the piano stool with Ichigo.

_Not even giving my king his private space when he's playing. _I notice, fuming inwardly.

Sitting a few feet away from me is a man with blue hair – Grimmjow – with his hand on my beloved cousin's thigh.

Granted, he's handsome. I would hand him my Ichigo over because I can see that he definitely loves my king. I would do anything to make the redhead happy. Even if I wish that those loving brown eyes were directed at me, I would be OK with him staying with Grimmjow until I die.

I would, really. But no. This is just inacceptable.

_We had a pact, Ichigo. We had a deal, King. This was our place. 'Our' as in 'just the two of us'. And yet you bring that perfect lover of yours? You play for him when you only ever played for me before? That's not fair. Not fair at all. _

I try to keep my emotions at bay. I feel so betrayed, so alone now that even Ichigo has put me aside.

We talk a little bit. Introductions and all that. A blushing Ichigo and loving azure and chocolate eyes connecting. Small smiles they think I can't see. Ridiculous. I see everything. Ichigo's nervous shifting, his teeth nibbling his lower lip as he probably wonder what I think of his boyfriend.

After a while, Grimmjow, who seems to be satisfied with himself, leaves the room, claiming he wants to take a leak. He closes the door behind him, leaving me alone with Ichigo.

It's just the two of us like it has always been. Yet it's not the same anymore. My king – to whom I've been loyal throughout many years and many situations – betrayed me.

The silence that follows Grimmjow's departure is deafening. It presses against my eardrums. I look at Ichigo who sweetly smiles at me before saying:

"Hey Shiro, I'm so happy to see that you and Grimmjow get along!"

And that's when the dam keeping my emotions back crumbles down.

My feet carry me to the door, as with a swift twist of my hand the door is locked. I can almost hear Ichigo frown.

As I turn around to face him again, I see that indeed he is scowling.

"What the hell, Shiro?" he asks, his voice unsure. He seems to be wondering if I'm serious or if I'm just joking as usual.

I'm not joking, not a bit.

I move closer to him. Maybe I can forgive him. Maybe Grimmjow forced him to come up here. Maybe I can finally show him my true feelings. Maybe he will play _for me_.

My arm extends to reach for him. I'm so close; my fingertips touch the soft fabric of his white button-up shirt. I'm about to hug him but then he does something I would never have expected: He takes a step back, distancing himself from me.

I don't know why. Perhaps he saw something strange flicker in my eyes? Or did he just understand how fucked up I am in reality?

My voice sounds weak and slightly crazed now:

"Ichigo—"

He interrupts me, taking yet another step back and making me take one forward – it's like we're dancing:

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Shirosaki? You're weird…!"

_Shirosaki. _He called me _Shirosaki_. Although he knows I fucking hate it. I feel something snap in my stomach and then Ichigo and his surroundings become blurry.

Everything happens so fast.

I grab him by the collar of his finely ironed shirt and throw him on the ground. I can't hear him yell anymore. All I can concentrate on is the disgust and fear I just saw on those beautiful eyes. This is the first time.

It was not supposed to happen, ever. I could've lived with only the mocking, joking glimmer directed at me. But this? No, this is too much.

My breath comes out in pants as I immobilise him easily. I had always been stronger after all. My shaking hands surround his tan neck.

No, this is wrong! I should be kissing and gently biting at that neck, not choking it. I can't control it. My white skin clashes with his peach tone. It makes me seem even whiter. Yuck.

I vaguely hear myself screaming at him, but my own voice sounds alien to me.

"WHY, ICHIGO? WE HAD A PACT! THIS WAS OUR SPECIAL PLACE! ONLY FOR THE TWO OF US! WHY WOULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THAT WHEN I HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT FUCKING LOYAL TO YOU? HAVE YOU EVERY CONSIDERED ME AS A HUMAN BEING? WHY WOULD YOU NEVER PLAY FOR _ME_?! WHY, KING! AM I TOO FUCKING MESSED UP TO BE WORTHY OF YOUR THOUGHTS?! IS THAT IT-?! "

All the questions and doubts that'd accumulated throughout the years came out but I knew I would never get answers to them.

I start noticing the confusion on Ichigo's rapidly darkening face. His beautiful tan skin is turning a pale purple and the pure white sclera I had always envied becme redder than rubies. And then I get it: Finally. Finally those honey brown gems are looking right at me. Only at me. His mouth gasps my name repeatedly. I want to keep it that way but I know that if my hands let go of their grip, it will never happen again. I won't have that.

The scratching of his nails against my wrists slowly starts weakening.

Through my palms, I can feel the erratic pulse vanishing. His skin is warm, so comfortable.

Thin rivulets of blood trail from his nostrils down to the sides of his face. His tears and saliva follow a similar pattern.

"Haha! Ichigo, my dear king, you're drooooling!" It's funny. I feel laughter bubbling in my chest. Soon enough a hysterical laugh fills the otherwise silent room.

"Ichi," I say as I prod his soft cheek. "Ichi, come on, you can't ignore me like that."

But he continues to ignore me. Now that's not funny.

I vaguely notice that the struggling has stopped a while ago.

My ears pick up sounds of voices. They seem worried and the restless pounding on the door only seems to confirm their anxiety.

I don't care.

I slowly stand up and carry my beloved king's limp body to the black piano.

My mind is completely blank, so my hands move on their own.

Ichigo is now sitting on his large stool, his long and delicate fingers and his head pressed lifelessly against the black and white keys which emit an atrocious, inharmonious cacophony.

As I listen to it, I close my eyes. I sit on my small stool next to his form.

This. This is it. This is his song for me. His very last thought is mine.

My eyes reopen and I take in his orange hair. It's gleaming and the sunlight filtering through the dirty window really does make it look like a golden crown. His handsome and still face is pressed against his favourite instrument but it's turned in a way that makes his beautiful, oh so beautiful brown eyes look right at me. Only at me.

The screams on the other side become insistent, so intense. They beg me to open the door. They ask why Ichigo had been screaming. I can hear the door creaking in its frame. Slowly I turn around, staring straight at the white door.

For the first time I notice how the white paint on the door is crackled and peeling off, revealing a dark wooden surface –almost black in colour. Isn't it just like me? A stark white surface masking a heart so dark.

Finally, the door bursts open. Splinters of wood join the ambient dust in its turbulent dance. I can see Grimmjow and Isshin rush in, frightened expressions on their faces. They are shocked and silent as they take in what I guess would seem like a horrible scene for outsiders. They wouldn't understand how Ichigo and I are finally united.

A blur of blue is pushing past me, running towards Ichigo and shaking him repeatedly while screaming his name. Awww, so much sorrow in his voice. Poor, poor Grimmjow.

I can feel his callous hands turn me around and punch me again and again while he's yelling at me.

He's asking me why I did what I did, his tears falling down on me. I just shake my head, not even trying to defend myself. He wouldn't understand it anyway.

I look into those fierce blue eyes. Ah, now I get it.

I chuckle a bit before his hits get harder and faster. My consciousness slips away.

I suppose he's just jealous that I got the sweet treasure in the end.

**THE END**

**A/N: So, how did you like it?**

**I enjoyed writing a fic in Shiro's POV to be honest. **

**I really love Shiro, he's such a tragic character in my opinion. That's why I cannot imagine happy fics with him unfortunately. Sorry Shiro, I love you, but you have to suffer : ( **

**Review if you feel like it : ) **


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